


Stance

by herbailiwick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Guns, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 09:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was prompted: "Lestrade is sick of Sherlock accidentally shooting things he's not supposed to, and takes it upon himself to teach the man to aim."</p><p>Poem. Rated PG for flirting and tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stance

Holes where they didn't belong set it off,

Lestrade's need to stop and correct.

Insufferable man, and a young one at that,

Who never took time to reflect.

 

"Have respect for this flat; no wonder you feel

That you'll be on the street at month's end!

Should you even have this? Oh, forget I asked.

Here, take some advice, from a friend."

 

A brow rose up high, but no protest came.

Holmes handed the gun to Lestrade.

Lestrade wouldn't have it, the lack of regard

From a young man so handsome and odd.

 

He said, "Look at me now," and stood very still

As Holmes circled round, studying.

He tried to ignore that a man who could shoot

Might cause walls a good bloodying.

 

"I'd learn quicker if you'd put your hands on mine

And bend over me just a bit.

Well, what on earth are you hesitating for,

Inspector? You're quite used to it.

 

"You smell nice," said Sherlock. "Shut up," said Lestrade.

Together they got in position.

First shot hit the plant, the second a flask,

The third something glass in the kitchen.

 

"You surprise me," purred Sherlock. "It's rather unwise,

But you care about me." "I do?"

"You want me to know how to defend myself.

I think it's a bit...sweet of you."

 

Sherlock pulled away, let the man have some peace

As he figured out what next to shoot.

"Your hands are quite steady, your reflexes ready."

Holmes thought Lestrade's blushing was cute.

 

"Well, you try it alone now," he fought off a smile,

"You'll do this right or not at all."

"You'd stop me, Inspector? Ambitious of you."

"Not really. I'd just make a call."

 

"Mycroft? You disappoint. How dull you are."

He sighed and rolled eyes and returned

To stand near Lestrade, with a wink and a nod

That ensured the attraction still burned.

 

"You're flirting with me." "I could shoot you, you know."

"If you did, you'd say bye to the Yard."

"Then maybe I'll kiss you instead," Sherlock leered,

"And make you my new bodyguard."

 

Lestrade stumbled back, looked away, bit his lip.

Sherlock swayed his hips, taking the stance.

He was much closer then, licked his own lip and grinned,

And deduced whether Lestrade could dance.

 

They didn't press on, they let it stay there,

But they both remembered the way

The closeness and blushes and gunfire felt

On that unforgettable day.

 

When Sherlock came back, a legend, a freak,

A savior, a killer, a friend,

He leaned right in close and said, "Thanks for the tips.

They were handy in making lives end."

 

Lestrade's breath caught fast and he cursed to himself,

In his head, but of course Sherlock knew.

"If you wouldn't mind, Greg, there are sensual things

I'm quite sure I could learn from you too."

 

"Are you comin' onto me?" "Please don't be dull.

You know I am. At least you should.

I've been taken with you since you helped with my stance.

You still smell unlawfully good."

 

"Isn't this a bit fast?" "What, you don't want it now?

I've deduced your attraction, and more."

"Dinner tonight, I'll cook, and you'll eat."

"Are you sure? It sounds like a bore."

 

"You're back now, and we have all the world's time."

"Impressively good point, that is."

Greg wrapped arms around what he'd lost and he'd found,

And who now was unquestionably his.


End file.
